Just A Lily's Share of Dew
by Treklocked Asgardian
Summary: 25 years ago, Bilbo Baggins found a bloody dwarf girl in the woods, and came to call her a daughter. When a wizard and thirteen dwarves arrive at Bag End with a proposed journey beyond imagination, Bilbo and Lilibelle will not only discover the meaning of adventure, but will finally find answers to Lili's unknown past... as well as who may have wanted her dead.
1. Prologue

Two things to note:

1) The title comes from Narcissa Harrison's "Lily, a poem"

2) Unfortunately, I don't own The Hobbit. If only I did... mwahaha

* * *

**Prologue**

_25 years ago…._

Bilbo Baggins was a respectable hobbit. At approximately 25 years of age, Bilbo was well-liked by all, except perhaps his cousin Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. An inquisitive man with a very unhobbitlike curiosity for knowledge of the world, it was not unheard of for Bilbo to be out taking walks around the Shire. Bungo frowned upon his son's curious nature, while dear Belladonna wholeheartedly approved of her son's Tookish streak.

Our story begins in the woods behind the Shire. Bilbo was taking his afternoon stroll when threatening clouds rolled in overhead. Instead of staying on the pathway that would surely lead him back to the Shire, he decided to roll the figurative dice and dash through the woods sans pathway. Mister Baggins was indeed on his way home when about halfway through the forest, a noise brought him to a stop.

"Hello?" he called out into the murky woodland. A moan came as a response. Bilbo, being a respectable hobbit and a man with a conscious, could not leave a person who may be in trouble to their own devices. "I'm coming for you," he shouted. "Keeping making noise!" Sound was the guide for Mister Baggins as he raced westward in pursuit of the possible victim.

It was not long before he saw through the high-reaching grasses and numerous trees a small figure. Slumped against a tree and bleeding profusely was a young girl. Were it not for the silver beads braided into her chestnut hair, Bilbo may have thought her of the race of Man, or perhaps a rather large hobbit. Instead, he quickly realized, this was a dwarven woman - and one close to death at that. With no hesitation, he scooped up the bloody girl and raced toward the Shire.

* * *

"How is she?"

Belladonna glanced from the girl on her bed to her worried son. "She is better. Her wounds have been tended to, and the bleeding has stopped. The worst one was to her head, so we shall have to see how she is faring when she wakes."

"What's a dwarf even doing out this far?" he asked, more to himself than to anyone else. "How long do you think it will be until she wakes, Mother?"

"I couldn't tell you, Bilbo. With her wounds, it could be an hour or it would be weeks." Bilbo's face fell. "Perhaps you could read to her? You always seemed to enjoy when I read to you in times of sickness."

Bilbo chuckled. "What could I read her? One of the books on gardening? I'm sure a young dwarven maiden would be bored to tears, asleep or otherwise."

"You never know," smiled Belladonna. "Besides, it isn't so much the material being read as the comfort of knowing that someone is there for you." Bilbo thought on his mother words before retrieving a book from his childhood and settling into a chair beside the resting girl.

"Um… hello there," he stuttered, feeling nervous and awkward. "My name is Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins. I'm… the one who found you. I'm not sure how you got there, but I promise that you're safe now." He paused. "My mother suggested I read to you, but I didn't think you would find gardening manuals interesting, so I picked an actual book. My mother used to read it to me, and I always liked it… Anyway, here we go. Lilly Hartlog and the Great Journey, chapter one. It was a long time ago when young Lilly Hartlog first got the idea to set out on an adventure..."

* * *

_Present Day…._

"Daddy! Daddy!" Lillibelle Baggins raced through the Shire, hair flying unrestrained in the wind and a smile on her face. "Daddy!"

Bilbo Baggins, a respectable hobbit now coming up on fifty years of age, sat outside Bag End smoking his pipe. His eyes crinkle at the sight of his daughter running toward him. For the past two decades, Bilbo has considered the young dwarf girl family. When she awoke from a month-long coma with very little memory, Belladonna immediately insisted that the girl stay with them. Of course, Bungo had protested, but in the end he could not refuse his wife. It was originally intended for Bilbo to take on the role of her brother, but as time went on, Bilbo became more and more a father figure.

From the novel he read to her nightly came her new name, Lillibelle. When initially trying to come up with a name for herself, she swore to Bilbo that it began with either an L or a B, but could not remember, hard as she tried, remember what it actually was. Bilbo saw to it that she was enrolled in school, had books to read, and had a good pair of shoes. Being a dwarf, her feet were not as tough as a regular hobbit's, and required a pair of boots. Bilbo saw to it that a pair of the strongest leather were brought in from the Blue Mountains for her.

In her time as a Baggins, Lillibelle wanted for nothing. Even after the deaths of Bungo and Belladonna, Bilbo saw to it that she lived well. Any gossipers or naysayers were immediately shushed or asked to leave. Most applauded him for his kind treatment of the perceived outsider. Other grumbled about his strangeness. In the end, Lillibelle was a welcome member of the community. Saving the life of a young hobbitling only three years after her arrival in the Shire assured her place.

"What is it, Lilli?"

"I shot a bullseye on all my targets!" smiled the proud girl, emerald eyes twinkling.

"That's my archer," grinned Bilbo, affection clear in his eyes. "Go get washed up for lunch, hon'." Bounding up the steps, Lilli stopped to place a kiss on her father's forehead. Standing upright, she is just an inch or two taller than him. "Don't forget the mail, Papa!"

"I'll get it after we eat."

Little did our dear Mister Baggins know that, come this afternoon, he would find himself in a very unexpected situation...

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A/N: Any mistakes are my own. I do not currently have a beta.


	2. Chapter 1

Thank you for all the lovely reviews, my dear readers! Melin le, mellyn. My apologies for the long wait! School got a bit crazy (senior year will be the death of me) and stole all my free time. I've also been more focused on my Sleepy Hollow fanfic. But now? Back to the Shire we go!

ONE THING TO NOTE: After seeing The Hobbit: DOS, my plotline has undergone some major changes. The only change to note so far is that **Lillibelle is now a head taller than Bilbo**, rather than just an inch or two.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit. Only Lillibelle is mine.

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**Chapter 1**

The comfortable kitchen of Bag End was a pleasant mix of scents. The scent of warm bread still hung in the air, despite the fact that the loaf had already been consumed. Herbs and spices also took part in the mix. "So, my dear," began Bilbo, who had just finished up a lovely tomato soup. "What do you have planned for today?"

The fair-skinned girl smiled. Running her fingers through the ends of her hair, she replied, "I think I'll do some reading, but I know Missy Grainlin still wants a rematch. She _knows_ I'll beat her, Papa! I'm the fastest runner in the Shire!"

Bilbo laughed. "I know you are. Do try and give the poor girl a chance, though."

"Fine," she huffed, rising to her feet. "I'll wash up." Quickly braiding her hair down her back, she tied an apron around her waist and set off to do the chore. A pale hand balanced two plates, the other holding silverware. When she first arrived in the Shire, Lillibelle was a very tan girl. Overtime, her skin lightened, and now matched that of Bilbo, if not a bit darker. Her brilliant smile remained ever the same.

"Thank you, Lillibelle." Bilbo too rose to his feet. Collecting his pipe and pipe weed, he headed out to rest on the bench. It was a beautiful day in the Shire. Nary a cloud in sight, flowers were blooming, children were playing, and the wind kept the heat at bay. Mister Baggins was quick to relax in this luxurious weather. Grey eyes slid shut as the man puffed out smoke rings. All was well until one smoke ring came - quite literally - fluttering back. Coughing, the gentlehobbit opened his eyes in confusion. Before him stood a very tall man cloaked in grey, face worn with age and beard nearly extending to his naval.

"Good morning," offered the hobbit.

"What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning? Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?

Confused, Bilbo replied, "All of them at once, I suppose…" The old man with a staff looked over our dear hobbit with a curious yet studious eye, assessing him. Bilbo fidgeted, uncomfortable under such scrutiny. "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure." Unbeknownst to Bilbo, his favorite little dwarrowdam was in fact listening in on this peculiar exchange. 'An adventure?' she thought, puzzled. 'What sort of adventure?'

Meanwhile, her father was shocked. "An adventure?" he repeated, brows furrowed. "No, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures."

'Me! I would!' exclaimed Lillibelle within the confines of her mind, a silly grin settling on her lips.

"Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things," said Bilbo, who stood to retrieve the mail from the box. "Make you late for dinner." He fixed his eyes on his letters, letting them occasionally dart up to his guest, secretly hoping he would be gone. With a tip of the head, he stated at last, "Good morning."

"To think that I should have lived to be 'good morning'ed by Belladonna Took's son, as if I were selling buttons at the door!"

His mother's name stopped him in his tracks. "Beg your pardon?"

"You've changed. And not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins," said the old man, leaning on his staff.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf! And Gandalf means…" He struggled for a moment. "Me."

"Gandalf...Not Gandalf the wandering wizard who made such excellent fireworks! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve!" Gandalf smiled at Bilbo's chosen memory. "No idea you were still in business."

With that statement, the smile fell. "And where else should I be?" Bilbo coughed, realizing his mistake. Taking a whiff of his pipe, he silenced himself. "Well, I am pleased to find you remember something about me. Even if it's only my fireworks… Well that's decided. It'll be very good for you. And most amusing for me!" Bilbo's brows were once again furrowed. "I shall inform the others."

"Inform the who? What? No, no, no. We do not want any adventures here, thank you!"

'Yes we do, Papa!' thought Lillibelle fiercely.

"Not today! I suggest you try over the hill, or across the water." Feeling awkward, the gentlehobbit closed with a last 'good morning' before scurrying into his hobbit-hole and firmly shutting the door. Lillibelle giggled at her father. "Papa, why are you being so silly?"

"That man," said Bilbo, gesturing with his pipe. "Will bring us nothing but trouble with his adventures."

"But Papa-"

"No buts! Didn't you say you had a race to win?"

Emerald eyes alight, she exclaimed, "Oh yes! I mustn't be late!" Fetching her coat and tying the laces of her boots, she was out the door fast as a Rhosgobel rabbit. Mister Baggins lets out an exasperated sigh. "Whatever will I do with her?**"**

* * *

Night had fallen over the Shire, and Bilbo remained awake, waiting for his beloved daughter to return home from whatever mischief she and her friends had discovered that day. Oh how he worried for his not-so-little girl! A nice warm meal was just what he needed to calm the irrational nerves. "She's nearly a grown woman," he muttered to himself. "No need to be so agitated. She can fend for herself just fine." A ring of the bell, however, derailed the plans of a meal. Never one to ignore guests, Bilbo trotted out to his front door to greet whomever had arrived on his porch.

Imagine his surprise to find a rather tall dwarf awaiting him! "Dwalin," said the man in a rather gruff voice. "At your service."

The confused hobbit replied politely, "Bilbo Baggins, at yours." As the man stepped inside, he asked quickly, "D-do we know each other?"

His guest stopped, and looking at the hobbit simply replied, "No." The 'you fool' was implied. The more his guest spoke, the more confused our poor hobbit became! Who is the 'he' this Dwalin fellow mentioned? Who invited this man to Bag End? Still, mustn't forget one's manners! Bilbo supplied the hungry traveler with food while trying to subtly hint at the fact that said guest was both unexpected and a problem. Of course, poor Mister Baggins was in for more than just one guest this particular evening. The bell rang again, this time welcoming a grey haired dwarf by the name of Balin. The frazzled hobbit was soon joined by two more dwarves: the young princes, to be exact. Fili and Kili.

For just a moment, Bilbo forgot to be annoyed at the unexpected company. There was something in the brunette's youthful grin that reminded him of his own daughter. It brought a warmth to his heart. The warmth increased as the blonde twin - he assumed their relationship, as they looked quite similar - complimented Bag End. Then, of course, that warmth died as the brunette tried to wipe mud on Belladona's glory box.

It was only when Gandalf arrived with the rest of the dwarves that the frustrated hobbit's anger dissapated, for he trusted his old friend. That is not to say that he was not stressed, but he was comforted by the fact that at least someone in the house knew who his guests were. His cupboard had been completely cleaned out by the time the feast had begun. Gandalf found him a time later. "My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?"

"What's the matter? I'm surrounded by dwarves! What are they even doing here?"

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering...once you get used to them."

"I don't want to get used to them. The state of my kitchen! There's mud trod into the carpet! They _pillaged_ the pantry. I'm not even gonna tell you what they've done in the bathroom. They've all but destroyed the plumbing! _I don't understand what they're doing in my house_!"

"Excuse me," said the youngest dwarf who had introduced himself as Ori. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

"Ori, give it to me," said Fili, who promptly threw the plate at his brother. Thus began a merry song that nearly made Bilbo lose his head.

_Blunt the knives bend the forks!_

_Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_

_Chip the glasses and crack the plates!_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates -_

_Cut the cloth tread on the fat!_

_Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!_

_Pour the milk on the pantry floor!_

_Splash the wine on every door!_

_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;_

_Pound them up with a thumping pole;_

_And when you've finished, if they are whole,_

_Send them down the hall to roll!_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

The hobbit let out a sigh of relief upon seeing his plates stacked neatly. The dwarves roared with laughter at the expression on his face, but quieted as a rapping was heard at the door. "He is here."

* * *

The gentlehobbit and the not-so-gentle dwarven king did not get off on the best of feet, probably due to the fact that, according to the king, Bilbo looked "more like a grocer than a burglar."

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?"

"Aye," Thorin answered, but his face was solemn. "But they will not come. The quest is ours and ours alone." The company of thirteen dwarves sat in silence until Mister Baggins broke it.

"You're going on a quest?"

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light," said Gandalf, pulling out a worn, yellowed map. "Far into the East, over ridges and mountains, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak."

"The Lonely Mountain," reads Bilbo.

"Aye, Oin has read the portents," said a Dwarf whose name Bilbo couldn't remember.  
"And the portents say that it is time. Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold. When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end."

Mister Baggins had been resting on a wall only half-listening when his attention was caught. "Um, what beast?"

"That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age," said Bofur in his silly hat. "Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks, extremely fond of precious metals-"

"Yes, I know what a dragon is," interrupted Bilbo. He'd read Lillibelle enough stories to know. And speaking of the young Miss Baggins, where on earth was she?

"I'm not afraid! I'm up for it," shouted Ori. "I'll give him a taste of Dwarvish iron right up his jacksie." This earned a lot of yelling from the rest of the Company. Most were shouts of agreement, while those of his brothers were for him to be quiet and to sit down. A knock at the door caught the attention of all, bringing a silence over Bag End. "Were you expecting anyone else?" asks Bilbo.

"No," replies Gandalf. "I was not."

"Then who- Lilli!" He scurried to the door. Upon throwing it open, an exhausted Lillibelle collapsed in his arms. "Lillibelle, are you alright? Talk to me, little one! Are you alright?"

"Not little," she muttered. She lifted her head, looking at her father. A gash across her right cheek was lightly bleeding. Her hands were adorned with minor scratches, but nothing serious. Bilbo took her arm and aided her in standing. "I'm fine, Papa. You worry too much." She hisses.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just landed wrong getting out of the tree is all."

"Were you and Perry Bimwald climbing trees again? I've told you I don't think that's very safe!"

"Papa, I've been climbing trees since I was a kid! I'm practically a professional!"

"Did you at least stay away from the wolf den on the East side?"

"Do you really think I'm that foolish, father?" she grinned, green eyes shining.

Bilbo returned the grin. "Sometime, you silly dwarf. Now come on, let's get you cleaned up." A cough brought the Baggines' attentions to the dining table where thirteen dwarves were staring, questions in their eyes. "Oh. Right. Um, here." Bilbo led Lillibelle into the dining space, where Bofur immediately offered the injured woman a seat.

"Thank you," she mumbled. She rubbed her arm, trying to ease the nervous knot in her stomach. She's never seen actual dwarves before, aside of the one merchant who Bilbo bought her bow from.

"Lillibelle, you remember Gandalf, I'm sure," said Bilbo. She nodded, offering the wizard a smile. "As for the rest, this is the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

"Alanjuz ghelekh," she said. "It is a pleasure to meet you all."

"You are the hobbit's daughter?" asked Thorin sceptically.

"I am," nodded she. "Not in blood, mind you, but in heart."

"What happened to your family?" asked Fili.

"Fili," admonished Nori.

"No, it's fine." She pursed her lips, eyes darting downward. "I don't know. If my state when I arrived in Shire is any indication, they are long dead...But I haven't a clue. I didn't even have a name when I woke up in the Shire. I named myself. Since then, I've lived here."

"A Baggins of Bag End," smiled Bilbo as he gently cleaned the cut on her cheek. "And my daughter for twenty-five years."

"Papa, let's not bore these poor gentlemen with the details of my life in the Shire," said Lillibelle. "I am sure they have other, more pressing business to attend to."

"The lass is right," said Balin. "The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."

"We may be few in number, but we are fighters! All of us, to the last dwarf," exclaimed Fili.

"And you forget, we have a wizard in our company! Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time," added Kili with an excited grin. Said wizard let out a nervous cough. The company thus began to argue over just how many dragons he had killed when Thorin gave a shout. They all silenced immediately. Bilbo was surprised by the silence, but said nothing. While he tended to his daughter's remaining injuries, the king spoke.

"If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" The room erupted in triumphantly cheers and inspired shouts.

"You forget the front gate is sealed," said Balin, bringing the cheer to an end. "There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," commented the wizard with a gleam in his eyes. In his hand appeared a key. Something in Lillibelle stirred. Her vision blurred as images of a vast sea of gold appeared before her eyes. She saw her father riding the waves, skidding over coins as he ran toward a large stone door. She could hear the rumble of what she thought to be thunder. As soon as the image came, it went. She could faintly hear the dwarves conversing around her.

"The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage," said Gandalf. "But if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar," said Ori.

"And a good one too. An expert, I'd imagine," commented Bilbo, who had finished tending to Lillibelle.

"And are you?"

"Am I what?"

"He says he's an expert! Hey!" The dwarves cheered as Bilbo stuttered out protests.

"I'm not a burglar," he said. "I've never stolen a thing in my life!"

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mister Baggins," said Balin. "He's hardly burglar material."

"But I am," chimed Lillibelle. All eyes fell to her. "I'm a very quick runner, and stealthy as a spirit."

Dwalin sneered. "But you're a-"

"A woman? Great deductive skills there, Master Dwarf," she said with a glare. "Measure a person's skills not by their gender, but by their skills themselves. I could be of use."

Dwalin continued. "The wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves."

"You have not seen me fight, _sir_, so you have no right to pass judgement! I could shoot bullseyes with my bow before my first year in the Shire was up. I've been using a sword for nearly as long. You know not what I can do," seethed the woman.

"Enough!" shouts the wizard. "If I say that Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is! In addition, Miss Baggins I know to be an excellent fighter. You would benefit from her help." Some of the Dwarves seemed ready to protest, but Gandalf continued. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, and can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the scent of dwarves, he will be unfamiliar with that of a hobbit, which gives us a distinct advantage... You must trust me on this."

Thorin looked weary. "And the girl?"

"Who happens to be sitting _right here_," she muttered.

Gandalf gave her a grin. "There is a lot more to her than appearances suggest, and she's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know."

A great silence settled over the company. "Very well," conceded Thorin. "We will do it your way." Bilbo's eyes, by now, were as wide as saucers. Not only were they dragging him into this mess, but his Lillibelle as well! Struggling to maintain a polite air, Bilbo took the contract that was handed to him.

"It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth" explained Balin.

"Funeral arrangements?" squeaked the hobbit. While the company conversed, he looked over the contract. The more he read, the wider his eyes became. "...including, but not limited to, lacerations, visceration… incineration?"

"Aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye," confirmed Bofur. The hobbit swayed a bit, but Bofur didn't seem to notice. "Think furnace, with wings. Flash of light, searing pain, and poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash."

"Hmm… Nope." With that, the poor hobbit fainted.

"Papa!" Lillibelle rushed to his side.

"He'll be alright, lass," assured Balin. "Best get him comfortable." Lillibelle nodded, lacing an arm under that of her father and taking him to his armchair. The dwarves migrated to the living room, seeing as how the meal had come to a close. Meanwhile, a more private conversation had begun in the dining room.

"You see the beads in her hair?" whispered Bofur.

"Aye, laddie," said Balin. "I did."

The toymakers eyes shone. "Could she really be-"

"I don't know, lad. I don't know. We'll just have to wait and see."

* * *

A/N: Alanjuz ghelekh = Good evening [in Khuzdul]

Mahal, this wound up being the longest freaking chapter! And this is after I cut it in half! I won't have a lot of access to a computer in these next few days, so don't expect the second this weekend. I should hopefully be able to get it out some time this upcoming week.

REVIEWS ARE TO ME WHAT GOLD IS TO SMAUG. Indulge me? -Treklocked


	3. Chapter 2

Within an hour, my email was positively FLOODED with responses to Chapter 1! You lovely people are just fantastic. *mwah* Trekky loves you!

Disclaimer: The Hobbit belongs to the wonderful Mr JRR Tolkien. Only Lillibelle is mine.

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**Chapter 2**

It was some time later that Bilbo regained consciousness. Gandalf handed him a warm mug of tea. "I'll be alright," he assured. "Just let me sit quietly for a minute."

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long," said the wizard. "Tell me; when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of elves and the woods, who'd stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mug and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what lies beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there." He gestured out the window at the green hills and endless skies.

"I can't just go running off," he said softly. "I am a Baggins of Bag End."

"You're also a Took," countered the wizard. "I needn't tell you of the great things your great-great-great-great-uncle Bullroarer Took did in battle, for you've recounted those tales time and time again to your daughter. She looks up to you, Bilbo Baggins, and by sitting around, letting the world pass you by, you are telling her that her dreams are unattainable and to be forgotten."

"What do you know of her dreams?" asked Bilbo, not in anger but with actual curiosity.

"I know that she is very much like you were. I know that she longs to see the world, and that this quest could be just what she needs. What you _both_ need."

There was a long pause. "Can you promise we will come back?"

"No," answered the man seriously. "And if you do, you will not be the same."

"That's what I thought," stated Bilbo, rising. "Sorry, Gandalf, I cannot sign this. You've got the wrong hobbit."

"Papa…" Bilbo turned to see Lillibelle standing at the door. "Please. Don't send them away. They might be able to give me answers! This could be my only chance." It broke Bilbo's heart to see tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

"I'm sorry, Lilli." With that, he walked out. The tears began to fall. Lilli covered her face, body shaking with silent sobs.

"There there, dear girl," comforted Gandalf, taking the girl in his arms. "Everything will be alright."

"B-But Gand-d-dalf, he said we're not-"

His careworn face smiled down at her softly. "Shhh. Breathe, dear one. You have my word that everything will work out in the end."

* * *

It was music that kept Lilibelle from dreaming that night, haunting melodies interweaving that seemed to touch a part of her soul. From her emerald eyes fell a single tear. Bilbo sat awake in his room, listening as well. Even he, who was not of the dwarven race, was deeply touched by their song.

_Far over the misty mountains cold_

_to dungeons deep and caverns old_

_We must away ere break of day_

_to find our long-forgotten gold_

_The pines were roaring on the height_

_and winds were moaning in the night_

_The fire was red, it flaming spread_

_The trees, like torches, blazed with light_

Bilbo awoke the next morning to cheerful birdsongs and warm sunbeams. Oh how he longed to stay in bed for just a bit longer- but wait! What of the dwarves? Quickly throwing on his robe, he crept out into the halls, looking for any sign of life. He found none. "Hello?" he called out for good measure. Receiving no response, he continues gazing into rooms, honestly beginning to hope for a response, for a guest to still be there. There was something very sad about the quiet, something very lonely. Bilbo hadn't felt this lonely in years, and why would he? He had Lillibelle, after all.

Letting out a sigh, he turned to go back to bed when something caught his eye. On the table was a piece of paper - the contract, with Thorin and Balin's signatures already adorning it. Below were two blank spaces, meant for the Bagginses of course. He pursed his lips, and something Tookish swelled inside of him. This thing, this force, called out for adventure, for travel. It yearned to possess great stories for telling, and to explore the world as he never had before. "Oh bother," he muttered, changing course from his room to that of his daughter. He opened the great wooden door to see Lillibelle laying on her side, stuffed toy rabbit under her arm. Her room was the brightest in all of Bag End, looking out onto the hills and the Grainlin family flower garden. Sketches were pinned on each of the green walls. Most were done by her various friends, but a few were done by Lillibelle herself. A sketch of she and Bilbo sat above her desk, encased in a wooden frame. Bilbo walked up to the bed and began shaking her gently. "Lillibelle… Come on inzil, wake up."

Lilli groaned, curling in on herself. "Don't wanna get up."

"Lillibelle, we're going to be late! Wake up!"

"Late for what?" she asked groggily.

"For the adventure!" As you can imagine, it wasn't too hard to get Lilli up after that! Not a half hour later, the pair were dressed, packed, and running down the hills of the Shire. Neighbors, for the most part, rolled their eyes. Some looked over in curiousity.

"Hey Bilbo! Lilli! Where are you off to?"

"Can't stop! We're already late!" shouted Bilbo.

"Late for what?"

"We're going on an adventure!" whooped Lillibelle.

* * *

The dwarves were riding through a wooded area on their respective equestrian animals when the Bagginses caught up. "Wait! Wait!" Thorin gave a shout for the horses to halt. The out of breathe pair skidded to a halt beside Balin. "We signed it," smiled Lillibelle.

Balin glanced over it. "Everything appears to be in order. Welcome to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield." All the dwarves but Thorin cheered. "Give them a pony."

"No no no that-that won't be necessary, thank you, but I-I'm sure we can keep up on foot," said Bilbo. As Bilbo stuttered out excuses, much to his daughter's embarrassment, two of the dwarves rode up behind them. They swiftly grabbed the pair by the shirt collars and deposited them on a pony.

"Perhaps I should sit in front, Papa? Seeing as how I'm taller," teased Lillibelle.

"Oh hush, you," grumbled Bilbo in response. He padded his pockets. Lilli's face turned scarlet with embarrassment as Bilbo stopped the group to return for a handkerchief. 'Really, Papa?' she thought. 'A _handkerchief_?"

"You'll have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey's end," said Gandalf. "You were born in the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you. The world is ahead."

The first day of the journey came and went. Once night had fallen over the world, did the company make camp on a cliff. A fire was begun, and meals were had. Bilbo felt very out of place, having never experienced this sort of adventure before. He's gone exploring as a young hobbit, sure, but this? This was all new. Meanwhile, Lilli was excited to help with whatever she could, which wound up being food preparation. More than once did her hair nearly end up in the food. "Oh bother," she grumbled. "Give me just a moment." Sitting down crosslegged, she quickly undid the messy braid that she had put up in haste before leaving Bag End. Moonlight reflected off the silver beads in her hair, making her almost sparkle. The dwarves all stopped to watch her, but Lillibelle was oblivious. With acquired skill, she took her chestnut locks and braided an intricate pattern down her back. "There. Much better." She was surprised to look up and find all eyes on her. "What? Have I done something wrong?"

"No, lass, nothing wrong," assures Balin. "It's just that- well, in our culture, braiding one's hair can be a very private thing. It's only done in public if absolutely necessary."

"For example, if you know you might be facing a battle at a moment's notice, and your hair is in the way, it is then acceptable," explained Dori.

Lillibelle flushed. "I-I'm sorry if I made you all uncomfortable. I really didn't know."

Dori offered her a smile. "Think nothing of it, lass." She returned to helping Dori with the meal, and the dwarves resumed their own individual task. Thorin glared at Bilbo.

"Have you taught her nothing of her own culture?"

"I-I've taught her what I could find," stuttered Bilbo. "But there's not much out there to be found if you're not a dwarf yourself. You lot are very secretive. The only reason she knows your language at all is because a Dwarven merchant took pity on her."

"So she truly remembers nothing of her old life?" asked Bofur, who had overheard.

"She has flashes here and there, but nothing of substance. Nothing she can hold on to." Bofur frowned at this, but nodded.

"Can I ask something?" ventured Lilli as she brought the men their food. Thorin gave a nod. "The merchant I talked to said that everyone's beads meant different things."

"That's right," said Bofur. "There are beads for all sorts of different things. Great heros are awarded beads that symbolize their feats of heroism. All tradesmen have a bead to show their profession. Everyone has at least one, though. When you're born, your parents give you a bead with your name written on it."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

"Indeed. They're usually the most hidden, however. They serve as identification if a dwarf is severely injured or killed."

"Oh." She looked away disappointed but not defeated. Turning around, she cast her gaze back over her shoulder and asked, "Could you tell me what these mean?"

"Most of these seem to be for show, little lass. Lady Dwarves often will wear colored beads for decoration. They mean nothing." Her face fell. "But that doesn't mean they're all for naught. May I?" She nodded, and Bofur carefully thumbed at a couple beads nestled higher up in her hair. "This one says... you were born in the Blue Mountains."

She whirled around, eyes shining. "Really?"

Bofur laughed. "Truly, lass. I could look for more if you'd-"

"Lassie! Get back over here! The food is getting cold," shouted Dori.

"Later?" pleaded Lilli.

"Later," grinned Bofur. His eyes stayed on her retreating figure as his mind raced.

* * *

By the time the moon was high in the sky, most were fast asleep. Sleep alluded poor Bilbo, however, for the company snored louder than thunder. Finding solace with Myrtle, Bilbo stayed near the horse for a few minutes, petting her mane. An inhuman howl cut through the night, waking the young princes, as well as Miss Baggins.

"What was that?" asked a frightened Bilbo.

"Orcs," answered Kili. The very word made Thorin jerk awake.

"Orcs?"

"Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them," explained Fili.

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep," whispered Kili. "Quick and quiet. No screams. Just lots of blood." Bilbo and his daughter caught eyes, terrified. The twins also met eyes, but instead started snickering.

"You think it's _funny_?" demanded Thorin. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

"We didn't mean anything by it," said Kili, looking sufficiently chastised.

"No you didn't," spat Thorin. "You know _nothing_ of the world." He walked off toward the edge to look out on the valley.

"Don't mind him, lad," said Balin to Bilbo. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarven kingdom of Moria. But our enemy got there first. Moria has been taken by a legion of orcs led by the most vile of their race: Azog the Defiler. The great Gundabad orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the king." Lillibelle's gaze turned to Thorin. How young he must have been… Her heart went out to him.

"Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad with grief. He went missing - taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. And then I saw him: a young dwarf prince, facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield… Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken." This brought the smallest of smiles to the twins' faces.

"Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, no song, for that night, our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And then I thought to myself, 'There is one I could follow. There is one I could call King'." All dwarves were awake by now, and when Thorin turned back to face them, he was met with looks of awe.

"And the Pale Orc?" asked Lillibelle. "What happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago." Bilbo noted the looks of scepticism traded between Balin and Gandalf, but said nothing.

"Azog," Lilli whispered to no one in particular. A tingle shot up her spine as her vision blurred. The campsite faded out as a dark valley emerged before her eyes. Objects afire were flying through the air in great numbers… 'Pinecones? Why would pinecones be on fire?' she thought. As she looked out, angry orcs met her gaze. At the head of the pack was an orc taller than the rest. Running across his face were jagged scars. The orcs snarled something in their native tongue, and her stomach dropped. Death was waiting, and it would not be painless.

Something shook her gently. "Lilli?" Bilbo whispered, eyes wrinkled with concern. The smell of the campfire and the symphony of crickets helped ground her back in reality.

"I'm fine, Papa," she whispered, brushing his hands from her shoulders. "Try and get some sleep."

Bilbo would not be brushed off so easily. "You had another one, didn't you?"

She pursed her lips before nodding slowly. "Yeah, I had another one."

* * *

A/N: inzil = flower [in Khuzdul]

A short chapter, I know. However, if you know the plot of the book/movie, you know what's coming next ;)

I AM SMAUG AND REVIEWS ARE GOLD. Add to my treasure?


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